Monster
by MarshmellowsAreBunniesArses
Summary: It was only to be expected. After all, hadn't he harbored Voldemort's soul for nearly all his life?


** Monster **

** By: MarshmellowsAreBunniesArses **

_"__Do you love me?" The words interrupted the peaceful silence and startled Hermione to a stutter. _

_"__I – What – That's beyond the topic at matter, but yes. Yes, Harry, I suppose I do love you." Hermione said while resembling a ripe tomato. _

_Harry smiled and continued cooking the fish they were to have for dinner. _

_Maybe it was just her, but it seemed as if the campsite was a bit more illuminated. But it was probably just her, after all, there was no reason for it. _

** xXx **

_"__Have you ever wondered what our lives would be like if there was no Voldemort, no prejudices?" _

_"__I . . . I have, Harry, and then I tell myself, _That's impossible._The wizarding world has been like this since practically the beginning of its society, we'd be hard-pressed to try to change it. And Voldemort? Unless if the Egyptians found a time-travel spell, I don't think we could stop this evil git from doing all of this." _

_Harry nodded solemnly, then broke into a grin."So, talking to yourself, huh Mione? I hear that's the first sign of insanity." _

_Hermione swatted his arm, but didn't comment on his horrendous chopping of her name. His grin widened and he pulled her closer as they continued to waltz in their tent. She sighed and allowed her head to rest on his shoulder. _

_Had she looked up, she would have noticed a hungry look in his eyes and a triumphant smile adorning his face. _

** xXx **

"What do you mean, _She's dead._" The words were said with cold precision and the deliverer of the news flinched.

"Exactly that, sir. We've found her body." The boy (there was no other word to describe him, he was barely of age) indicated to a painfully familiar body that sported a bushy head among the other fallen warriors. "Her body shows signs of long term uses of the Cruciatus curse, and an unknown curse which is most likely the cause of her death."

Harry ignored him and walked briskly to her side and dropped to his knees. "Hermione!" He cried, tenderly brushing her hair out of her face, remembering how it used to annoy her. "You do know you weren't supposed to die, right? It wasn't supposed to be like this. I love you, I love you, I love you." Each declaration of love was emphasized with a kiss to her cold, unresponsive lips. Harry continued to check for a pulse,but to no avail.

A few minutes later, an unearthly scream erupted from him and filled Hogwarts' grounds.

** xXx **

Hermione gasped for the breath that had left her lungs as soon as her body fell (quite roughly) on the ground.

At least, she thought it was the ground. It was slightly difficult to confirm, as everything was a blinding shade of white.

"Damn! Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!" The voice echoed around the area and Hermione turned to try to determine where it was coming from. Finally, her efforts were rewarded and she soon spotted a dark, hooded figure walking towards her.

"What the hell!" He said as soon as he was close enough. "Can't you do a single thing right?!" He yelled shaking the files in his hand. "It says it right here, '_Defeat Voldemort, realize bond, get married, and have three kids!' _Not, _'Die and drive your soul mate to insanity!'" _

Hermione's grip on her wand tightened, sensing what this peculiar argument would lead to. "Oh, put that useless stick away! This is about me and losing my job! Okay, well maybe a little bit about you, but mostly about me."

"What do you mean, _'Lose my job'_? I have not even the slightest idea as to what you're referring to." To her surprise, the deranged man just laughed.

"_I have not even the slightest idea as to what you're referring to."_ He mimicked jeeringly in a high pitched falsetto. "You're the bloody Brightest Witch of Her Age!" His voice returned to normal. "You! And your stupid soul mate! That's what! You died! The Fates aren't exactly happy about that, you were supposed to die in your sleep at the age of 157! But no matter, Dolohov already paid the price."

"Soul mate? Who?" Hermione asked, holding her throbbing head tenderly.

"Oh my . . ." The man shook his head. "Are all magical creatures this dense or is it just you? Harry Bloody Potter! That's who! It sure as fuck wouldn't have been Draco Malfoy or Fred Weasley! Why do you think you had _those_ dreams while you were in Hogwarts, hmm?"

Hermione blushed, but held her ground. "I thought it might have been a passing crush." Ignoring his scoff and his, "Honey, I bet you most married couples don't dream of their partners that way.", she continued. "Anyway you haven't answered my questions."

"You haven't asked any, sweetheart. Any worth while, mind you. Honestly, a person tells you you've died and the first thing you ask is who your soul mate is?"

"Fine." Hermione spat through her clenched teeth. "Where am I?"

"At last! A question!" The man said dramatically, including arm gestures. "I don't know."

"What the bloody hell do you mean you don't know?"

"Exactly that, darling. This is _your_ head. Dreadfully boring, might I add. No imagination at all." He said looking at the white area with distaste. "I just come to deliver the messages."

"Which is . . . ." Hermione trailed off suggestively.

"Since apparently you were too dense to realize your bond _and_ you died, I'm here to . . . ah, _inform_ you." The man looked at her as if waiting for her to interrupt, but at her silence continued.

"You and the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die are soul mates, got that?" She nodded. "Great. Though you probably wouldn't know what that means. Very few wizards do. Imagine any feelings you've had for a boy and multiply that by about thirty." At her gobsmacked look, the man laughed. "Yep, I'm not joking. And that's only at the first kiss, as your _relationship_ progresses so does your bond. Both of you are quite extraordinary magical beings, but you'll find yourselves doing magic Voldemort and Dumbles could only dream of. There's a catch, though."

Hermione groaned, of course there was. "You have a _soul bond_, each others better halves. Can you guess what that entails?" He asked her the way an adult would a simple-minded child.

"We can't live without each other?"

He clapped and somewhere in the distance trumpets sounded. "Congratulations! Some people might think that's romantic, but it truly isn't. Without each other the surviving half dies or in some cases like this on, they go insane." He snapped his fingers and an image appeared before them. "Harry actually became the next Dark Lord."

Hermione gave a nervous laugh, bordering on hysteria. "You're kidding, right? I know Harry, he wouldn't do something like that."

"Do you? Then you would know that he had a horcrux inside of him, feeding off of him." The man gave a triumphant smirk that had Hermione's hand itching to slap it off of him.

"Yes, yes I did." His smirk slowly faded back and it was Hermione's turn to sport the ever popular triumphant smile.

"Your death was the thing that finally made him lose his grip on sanity. The horcrux was going to turn him dark and he would have become the next Voldemort. You were his only hope, and he knew it. He didn't exactly know what you guys had, but he knew that you were his light. Right now he's wrecking havoc, though slightly for the light. Would you believe that house-elves are now treated better than most purebloods?"

"What?" Hermione whispered and turned to the screen. Sure enough a certain blond Slytherin was working in the kitchens at Hogwarts.

"Can . . .Can I do something about this?"

"Finally! I was about to think that the tales of your kindness were that – tales. Yep, now remember, don't ignore the bond. Where I'm sending you, he already has suspicions about it."

Before Hermione ask what he was going to do, he snapped his fingers, her vision went blurry and she fell.

"What the hell, Carl?" A feminine voice rang out angrily.

"In my defense, Miranda, I was going to lose my job and she offered to help. I didn't force her into anything." The man, Carl, said sounding slightly frightened.

"Just wait until the Fates hear about this. They're going to hand you your arse on a platter. And it's Aphrodite, I haven't been called Miranda in eons."

"The Fates aren't going to be angry, they'll be happy that everything is in balance."

"And the girl? She could destroy everything I've spent ages creating."

"She'll do a good job. If she and her friends could defeat Voldemort, something that most people thought impossible, then surely she could do the impossible again."

"Yes, but . . ."

And it was to this that Hermione listened to until she blacked out, unconscious.

**A/N: Well folks, here it is. Please review. If there are any mistakes please tell me. Now, and this is somewhat a trick, to which year do you want Hermione sent to? I'm only giving two options (the ones I feel I could work with) fourth year and sixth year. Tell me in a review. The title comes from the song Monster by Paramore, for those who are curious. Until next chapter, this was MarshmellowsAreBunniesArses. **


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